


The Bridge and the Water

by GoddessofBirth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Other, Pre-Series, Suicidal Ideation, bb!Chris Argent, bb!Peter Hale, pre-Petopher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 22:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12263634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofBirth/pseuds/GoddessofBirth
Summary: “It scares me sometimes, you know?”  He looks over at the boy standing at the end of the curved wooden bridge, a little older, a little more scruff over his chin than Peter can yet aspire to.





	The Bridge and the Water

“It scares me sometimes, you know?” He looks over at the boy standing at the end of the curved wooden bridge, a little older, a little more scruff over his chin than Peter can yet aspire to. His crossbow is cradled loosely in the crook of his elbow but not really pointed at anything, because the Argents and the Hales don’t hunt each other, even if he’s fairly sure they mainly want to.

Chris tilts his head and raises an eyebrow and Peter returns to pondering the trickle of a stream that runs below.

“You know? How easy it would be.” He shrugs without any real emotion. “How calmly in the middle of some normal emotion or activity - doing my homework or helping with the dishes - and I just think…’Maybe now would be a good time to just be done with it. Just, do it, you know? Grab a knife, some wolfsbane. I know where she keeps it, and did you know we really can’t heal fast enough if the cut’s deep enough?”

Chris grunts but doesn’t speak so Peter keeps going. “And it scares me how thin the string of reason is that answers ‘Nah, don’t be stupid.’ Because at any time, that string of reason could break. And then there would be nothing between me and the abyss.” He kicks at the base of the railing, delighted at the way the crumbling wood shivers and cracks, just a little.

He swings to face Chris, a smirk crawling up his face as he props himself against the railing and scrubs at his shoulder with the tail of his stretched out sweater sleeve. “Or maybe it doesn’t scare me, and that’s the most scary thing of all.”

Chris rolls his eyes and flips the crossbow onto his back, but his eyes never leave Peter’s face and his brows draw together. “You’re a dramatic shit. You’d never do it. Besides, it would kill Talia.”

“Would it? Are you sure?”

Chris opens his mouth and then closes it again, then leans over and stares at the water, mimicking Peter’s earlier pose. “It would.” But he sounds less certain, and really, why wouldn’t he? Everybody knows Gerard Argent doesn’t give a shit about Chris, not really, so he has to wonder about other adults.

Peter returns to his original position, and his arm brushes against Chris’. “Yeah, it would. So I won’t.” But he knows he doesn’t sound so certain, either.

They stare together for a long time, until the sun filtering through the leaves takes a cold, slanted shine, and a sharp, clear whistle echoes through the trees. Chris jerks, like he’s been asleep, and then blinks several times. He glances in the direction of the whistle, then back at Peter. “I gotta go.” Then, before Peter realizes what’s happening, Chris reaches out a hand and _ruffles_ Peter’s hair. “You’re a good kid.”

He’s off the bridge and five steps off the path before Peter recovers and picks his jaw off the ground. “Fuck you! You’re like three years older than me!” He shoots his hand in the air and salutes Chris with his middle finger. Chris doesn’t even break his stride as he grins over his shoulder and lazily returns Peter’s gesture. Then he’s out of sight, faithful guard dog to his father’s bidding.

Peter kicks at the railing again, this time hard enough it actually splits in two, and heads off in the other direction, already knowing he’s late for supper.


End file.
